


Lights Will Guide You Home, And Ignite Your Bones (And I Will Try To Fix You)

by PrincessSammi



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But here i am anyway, Episode 3, Feels, Few uses of bad language, Gen, Hecate is sad, I have been writing this for ages haha, Pippa is an angel, Post Happy Birthday Indigo Moon, Sadbroom, So nervous to even post it, mentions of alcohol/drinking, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessSammi/pseuds/PrincessSammi
Summary: {Since reconciling a few years ago now, they've worked hard to get back to where they once were: they have monthly chess games, daily maglet messages, weekly mirror calls. They laugh and they joke, and they talk. Really talk. So when Hecate Hardbroom first considered taking on such a life-changing role, her best friend was naturally one of the few people from whom she sought advice. At first Pippa was sure that Hecate had finally cracked. Had thought she was only acting out of guilt or maybe even some misplaced duty of care. But then they had talked about it. And the more they talked about it, the more she came to realise that this actually wasn't the case at all.}**One shot: After the events of Indigo Moon's birthday, it is left to Pippa Pentangle to pick up the shattered pieces of her best friend's heart.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	Lights Will Guide You Home, And Ignite Your Bones (And I Will Try To Fix You)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch.
> 
> A/N: Greetings, witches!
> 
> This has been slowly formed over the last six months (curse needing to work full time), but, finally, it is done. I hope. Since Sadbroom is very much my jam, this is set directly after Happy Birthday, Indigo Moon. 3:) If you haven't yet seen season 4, episode 3 (which actually aired for the first time on CBBC a year ago today!) , then please proceed at your own risk as this contains heavy spoilers for the episode. As always, music is my muse, so the title of this fic comes from Coldplay's song Fix You.
> 
> Okay, now I am going to go Hideybroom.

**_Lights Will Guide You Home, And Ignite Your Bones (And I Will Try To Fix You)_ **

Her bright smile sets like the sun the moment Hecate's face swims into full view of the mirror. Her best friend looks devastated. Utterly heartbroken. Much more upset than when she had stumbled onto Pentangle's doorstep in the early hours of the morning, shaking and crying, telling of how she had once done something truly unforgivable. In truth, Pippa was still appalled. Sickened, even — but not by the gut-wrenching confession. As yet another tragic tale of two best friends had come pouring out, her only fury that night had been one directed at those who had failed a young girl right when she needed help the most.

'Hiccup?'

'Would you mind terribly if we cut this short tonight, Pippa? It has not exactly been the best of days.'

Hecate's voice is tired, strained, yet the anguish on her face is the image Pippa gets stuck on. After all, Pippa _knows_ Tired Hecate, knows that this isn't it. This is not the kind of exhaustion that sometimes dances across the deputy's face after a particularly trying day of teaching teenage witches and dealing with the ridiculous level of shenanigans that somehow always seem to find their way to Cackle's door.

No, this is different.

Since reconciling a few years ago now, they've worked hard to get back to where they once were: they have monthly chess games, daily maglet messages, weekly mirror calls. They laugh and they joke, and they talk. _Really talk_. So when Hecate Hardbroom first considered taking on such a life-changing role, her best friend was naturally one of the few people from whom she sought advice. At first Pippa was sure that Hecate had finally cracked. Had thought she was only acting out of guilt or maybe even some misplaced duty of care. But then they had talked about it. And the more they talked about it, the more she came to realise that this actually wasn't the case at all.

'Bastard said "no", didn't he?' Pippa leans forward in her chair. She is so close to the mirror that her breath momentarily fogs up the glass. A tear trickles down Hecate's cheek, and it's the catalyst for her own heart to crumble. 'I'm so incredibly sorry, sweetheart. This is all on him, okay? Not you. Anyone with half a brain can see that you are the _only_ witch who is right for this very important task.'

'Pippa-'

'We can try again,' Pippa offers. 'In fact, we'll go _right_ now and we will _demand_ an audience with the so-called _Great_ Wizard!'

'Pippa-'

'We won't leave until he sees sense and agrees to grant your guardianship request. Then once he does, you're going to be the _best_ mum, Hiccup. I know you will. You just need to hold on a little bit longer.'

A small smile ghosts across Hecate's face before her sadness returns in full once more. 'He already did, Pipsqueak.' She holds the scroll up against the mirror. As Pippa reads, Hecate silently reads along with her. She's read it so many times in the past few hours, yet the words still feel like a knife to her heart all over again. Fresh tears sting at her eyes. She was foolish to allow herself to hope. _Stupid_ to get caught up in some crazy fantasy of happy-ever-after. 'I found out today shortly after sending Indigo back.' Hecate attempts to sound casual as she rolls up the scroll, but the crack in her voice ultimately betrays the facade.

'Back?' Pippa's concerned brow furrows in confusion. 'Back where, Hecate?'

The last she heard, Hecate was planning a special birthday surprise for that coming weekend where, by then, she hoped to be able to gift Indigo Moon something that was long overdue for the two childhood chums: a loving family.

Hecate doesn't answer. Instead, her hand reaches up to entangle itself in the chain of her timepiece; an old calming technique brought out for those moments when the world is just too much. Her wide, Bambi eyes still manage to do all the talking as they wordlessly stare into a silence so heavy it almost threatens to choke the air from the room. Pippa worries some more. Tries again to establish how seemingly good news can possibly be so bad. 'Talk to me, Hiccup. Has something happened? Is it Indigo? ... Did something happen to Indigo?'

'1989,' Hecate whispers quietly, and then loudly clears her throat to try and reassert her usual authority. 'I sent her back to 1989.'

Pippa blinks. Wonders if she has misheard. 'Why on _earth_ would you send her back to-'

And then she stops. Does the maths. Understands what Hecate is trying to tell her.

'Oh, darling,' She doesn't yet know the full ins and outs of what has transpired, but Pippa knows enough to know that her best friend is hurting deeply, and that alone is enough to make her hurt too. 'Is there anything that I can do?'

Hecate shakes her head. 'There is nothing anyone can do, Pipsqueak. Things are … how they were always meant to be.' She curses as another tear spills freely down her cheek. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I have to finish clearing out the rest of Indigo's room.'

'But-'

'And I am _quite_ sure that you must have plenty to be getting on with yourself. Goodnight, Pippa.'

* * *

She ignores the latest knock on her door in the same way that she has ignored all other attempts to converse with her tonight. Tonight, she needs this. Tomorrow, however, Hecate already knows that she will pick herself back up and then go on as normal. She will dry her eyes, swallow her sadness, and pretend like her heart isn't in pieces. Just like she has done every time life has pulled the safety rug from under her feet.

When all is said and done, what difference is one more fall now?

'Hiccup?'

Pippa Pentangle's voice is soft, but her tone carries a growing urgency. She raps on the door again. 'Hiccup, darling, it's me.' Then, there is a slight pause. 'Pippa.' Pippa isn't really sure why she feels the need to clarify that last part. It is not as if anyone else in the magical community could _ever_ get away with calling Hecate Hardbroom by such a ridiculous nickname. Well, okay, there _was_ that one time Dimity Drill overheard them say goodbye and had then spent the whole of the next day referring to the formidable deputy headmistress as "Hiccup Hardbroom". That was until Hecate had not-so-politely asked the PE teacher if she wished to recreate the famous heights of her Star Of The Sky career — without the aid of a broomstick!

'I ran into Ada on my way up here. She told me what happened with Indigo … about nature trying to restore her to her actual age. I guess that's why you had to send her back in time?'

'Right?'

Hecate's arms wrap around her middle in a futile attempt to try and stifle her all-encompassing grief. According to the clock on the wall, it has been about six hours since Indigo ceases to officially remember them ever crossing paths. While it is apparent that the proud parent definitely recalls something, the details are hazy at best, and Hecate is no longer sure whether or not that is a good thing. Still, she supposes, it's too late now: to Indigo Moon, at least, Joy Hecate Hardbroom is lost, erased.

Forgotten.

'Hecate?'

'No!'

The word is sharp, piercing — not unlike the eyeliner the deputy used to wear but has long since abandoned. 'No,' Hecate repeats, only louder this time. As those old wounds begin to slowly reopen though, she can feel her pain bleed anew, and she silently howls in despair. 'I-I chose to send her back _because_ … what I wanted was secondary to what Indigo Moon needed.'

'Tell you what, darling, why don't you let me in and then we can talk about it properly?'

'I am not exactly in a talking mood right now, Pippa.'

'Well, that's okay!' Pippa is trying her hardest to remain upbeat, positive, but any hope is now fading away fast. She clenches her hands into fists. Restrains herself from simply blasting the door off its hinges. 'We don't need to talk about anything if you don't want to. We could just … sit. _Yes,_ we can sit and if you feel at any point that you want to talk then we will, and if you don't, then we'll just enjoy the silence.'

'Please, Hecate!'

Pippa knows that she is being selfish, knows this isn't really about her. At the same time though, she can't help but feel stung. It's just … they've made such good progress over the past four years — _especially_ in these last few months — and now it rather feels like she is losing her best friend all over again.

'I'm begging you, Hiccup. Open the door. Let me help you through this. _Just_ -don't shut me out ... not again.'

With still no movement heard, it is a defeated Pippa Pentangle who slides helplessly to the floor, and that is where she stays, barely registering the cold flagstone beneath her bones as her every attempt to reach Hecate feels increasingly more desperate than the last. Resting the back of her head against the door, she sighs. On the other side of oak, Hecate inadvertently mirrors her actions. 'I'm guessing you would rather be left alone, huh?' Pippa pauses and waits, though she doesn't really expect to receive an answer. 'I can't say that I blame you. Just know that I'm here, Hiccup. _Right here._ And when you're ready to talk or sit or … well, I'll be right outside your door waiting. Also sort-of-wishing that I had thought to nip to the loo first, ya know … but mostly I'll just be waiting.'

She isn't sure exactly how long she sits for. Eventually though, she hears the door unlock and scrambles to her feet just in time to see it swing open. Hecate's hair is down and she's already changed into her nightclothes. Her eyes are red and puffy, and it takes all the willpower Pippa has left not to just sweep her up into the biggest, warmest hug and then never let her go.

'I-'

Hecate's raised hand is quick to silence whatever is about to be said. Her other hand grips the door, long nails digging in with such a ferocity it would appear they are all that currently stands between her and the floor. As her final frontier melts away to nothing though, there is suddenly a whole new kind of brokenness reflected back in the sorrow of her eyes. 'Please, Pipsqueak ... I am not altogether sure I can bear to hear _those_ words right now.'

Pippa nods in quiet understanding, and then discreetly wipes away her own tears. _Strong_. Hecate needs for her to be strong. 'So, can I come in then? I've brought gin.'

'And I suppose that I would be considered a bad hostess if I was to throw you out without offering you so much as a beverage first?'

'You could never be a bad anything, Hiccup.' The words are wholly sincere, and for just a second Hecate believes that they could be true. She knows better than that though. 'I just thought you could maybe do with something to help um … take the edge off a bit. Sorry about the colour, by the way, but it was the only one I had on short notice.'

It's an odd comment to make — even by Pippa's wacky standards — but beyond a well-executed eyebrow raise, Hecate doesn't question the choice any further. Not until five minutes later that is, when she has retrieved two glasses, and finally catches a glimpse of the bottle that now sits on her table.

'Pippa! Why in _Merlin's_ name is the gin _pink?_ '

* * *

Despite initial reservations over colour, the bottle is near-empty long before Hecate can come to the conclusion that drowning her sorrows is probably _not_ the best solution to her many life's problems. This newfound knowledge, however, still doesn't stop her from refusing as Pippa tips the remaining dregs of pink liquid into both their glasses. Come morning, the distraught deputy knows she will likely regret taking this route, but right now she has decided that she doesn't actually care.

Except that's not _quite_ true.

Of course she cares.

She cares too much, and that has _always_ been a large part of her problem.

'Remember how we used to do this?' Pippa can't help but feel slightly nostalgic as she adjusts the blankets around Hecate and herself. 'Only it was hot chocolate back then and not a recipe for plausible deniability!'

'What I remember is your insistence on filling your cup with — and I quote — "tiny clouds of heaven".

Pippa giggles. 'For the last time, Hiccup, marshmallows are delicious!'

'They're for children, Pipsqueak!'

'Well, I guess I'm still a big kid at heart then!'

She realises the poor choice of wording almost immediately, but it is already too late. Hecate's features freeze, and then they fall. Between the emotional trauma of the day, and her now dramatically lowered inhibitions, the usually stoic woman suddenly finds herself at a complete loss over how to handle this latest infliction of pain in her life. There is no airbrushing of the details. Not this time. Just everything, laid out bare.

_Raw._

Pippa doesn't push or prod. Nor does she try to play judge and jury. She simply listens as her best friend pours her heart out. Holds her that bit tighter with every tear that falls.

Hecate tells of the Wishing Star magic fragmenting, and how Indigo had used it to trick her. She talks of their argument, of how Indigo fled the clearing. Explains how she searched, spent hours frantically transferring herself all over the woods in a bid to find the missing girl. Too overcome by emotion to continue on any longer, Hecate breaks off and draws a shaky, shallow breath. The rest of the scene plays in picture perfect clarity, yet the words don't come.

'Don't feel that you need to do this for my benefit, Hiccup. If it's too soon ... if you aren't ready-'

'No! I-I _want_ to tell you, Pippa, I do ... I just need a moment.' Downing the rest of her drink for some further Dutch courage, Hecate places the empty glass on the table before continuing on with her tragic tale; her hand-eye co-ordination proves to be a little off-balance, and it is only thanks to Pippa's quick reflexes that it actually makes it there in one piece. 'I know this might sound incredibly foolish, but I somehow managed to convince myself that the rest of the world had forgotten all about Indigo Moon. As it turns out, not everyone had. In fact, there were people, _important people_ , who were out there looking for her this entire time.'

'Important people?' The confusion is evident across Pippa's face as she struggles to understand. 'But I thought you said she had nobody?'

Hecate nods. 'I did say that, Pippa, I did. And up until ... this afternoon, I _truly_ believed that to be the case. So did Indigo — there was never any reason to think otherwise.' With a somewhat clumsy flick of the wrist, she summons her maglet from the potions laboratory and brings up the webpage responsible for shattering a dream that she had only recently discovered existed within her. 'It seems, however, that our dearest Indigo was not so alone in this world after all.'

As Pippa stares at a Missing poster of the girl responsible for so much of the happiness and pain in her best friend's life, Hecate relays the story for the second time that day. She tells of how Indigo had been given up when she was small to an aunt and uncle, whom everyone believed could offer the child a better life. Talks of how the woman only realised her mistake after Indigo was already missing. Explains how a loving mother had then devoted the rest of her life to actively searching for her daughter.

'Of course, she never found her, did she?'

The question is clearly rhetorical, but something within Pippa still feels compelled to answer.

 _'No,'_ Hecate echoes, her voice rattling dangerously. 'All that wasted time ... all those lost years, and they never got to be together because of _me_ ... because of what I did.' Quietly, she takes the device back, but she doesn't turn it off right away. Instead, her gaze lingers on the picture of the smiling teenager. 'Once I knew that Indigo had someone out there to go back to, the rest just fell into place. I mixed that potion with the deliberate intent of sending her back to her mother. And I added a dose of Forgetting Powder to ensure that she would remember _nothing_ of witches or magic.' She dares to steal a glance at Pippa, whose tears now mirror her own.

'There is something else, too.' Hecate smiles brightly, falsely. 'We have a new pupil, Pipsqueak. Her name is Azura.'

* * *

_It's cruel._

That's all Pippa can think as she cradles the grieving guardian in her arms. Crueller than cruel. She wants to scream, shout, throw things at whoever up there keeps heaping endless misery down upon someone who deserves so much better.

Hecate closes her eyes, and gently rests her head against the pink-clad shoulder. She really ought to have known that drinking so much on an empty stomach would not end well. Now, her head hurts as well as her heart, and — much like the rest of her life — the room quickly spins out from under her control.

''Indigo said that Cackle's felt familiar ... that _I_ seemed familiar. She asked me if we knew each other, and ... well, I could hardly tell her the truth, could I? So, I told her that we didn't, said she was mistaken. I lied, Pippa ... _I lied_. All I have _ever_ done to that poor girl is lie to her!'

'You had good reason though, Hecate.'

'Did I?'

Hecate buries her face deeper into Pippa's shoulder and tries to ignore the nausea that is rapidly creeping over her. Instead, she focuses on Pippa. Lovely Pippa. Lovely Pippa, who is here. Lovely Pippa with all her perfect and her pink and her perfume.

In all the years, the Pentangle has never once changed her signature scent.

Hecate will never tell, but she actually bought a bottle after they had parted ways the first time around — just so that she could always retain a little bit of Pippa within her lonely life. She still sprays it on the days where she feels particularly down, and while it _is_ good, it has _never_ quite compared to the real thing.

'You should have seen her face, Pip. She seemed so confused and ... _disappointed?_ '

'Well, that makes sense,' Pippa muses. Carefully, she runs her fingers through the dark, silky locks, remembering how the calming motion had always helped soothe a distressed Hecate when they were younger. 'I think anyone would be rather disappointed to find out they didn't actually know _THE_ Hecate Hardbroom.'

Hecate snorts. _'_ Yes, Pippa, because she is _such_ a shining example to follow, isn't she?'

It breaks Pippa's heart to hear her best friend refer to herself with such hatred, such disgust in her voice. Breaks it even further to think back to a time when it was all so very different. A time long before Hecate Harbroom had the joy crushed out of her.

Literally.

' _She_ is, actually.' Pippa's voice is assertive, certain. 'She's the best person. The witchiest witch. My dearest friend.'

'Why?'

Not for the first time since they have reunited, Pippa wishes that Hecate was able to see what she could. Wishes that she could see the beautiful and brilliant mistress of magic. That brave, strong, _amazing_ woman who always stands so tall and proud in the face of adversity. It's okay though that she hasn't yet found that girl within. It just means that when the day finally arrives — and Pippa still firmly chooses to believe that it _will_ happen — the moment of self-realisation is going to be that much sweeter.

'Because if she was somebody else then, yeah, she might still be a great gal, but she wouldn't be My Hiccup.' She immediately feels Hecate stiffen beneath her arms, although the exhausted witch doesn't attempt to pull away from their embrace. Pippa smiles, whispers into the coconut-smelling tresses. 'And I'll let you in on another little secret, shall I?'

Curiosity turns to embarrassment as Hecate finally looks up, taking in the faint trail of make-up and tears left behind in her wake. She furiously wipes at her eyes. Pippa is going to kill her. Old demons come out to play as mortification pulses through her, but before she can offer to mend the damage, the cashmere sweater is as good as new again.

'I am so _fucking_ proud of her!'

'I-'

'Everything she's achieved. All that she's overcome.' Pippa's voice drops, but her words still come through loud and clear. 'What she was prepared to do for Indigo ... what she gave up for her in the end.'

'It-' Hecate swallows hard. Tries to gather herself back together from where she has become undone. Pippa's gaze never leaves her though. Those beautiful brown eyes, still shining with a level of love and adoration that she has never quite been able to fathom. 'It was the right thing to do.'

Pippa nods. She's expected as much really. 'That doesn't mean that it was easy, Hiccup.' She is still smiling as she reaches out to brush away a falling tear; Hecate cannot help but lean into the touch. Pippa's hands are soft, and her gentle fingers make the finest silk feel like the roughest of sandpaper. 'In fact, most times, doing the right thing honestly kind of sucks! We still make that choice though. Even when we already know that the world will break our hearts the very moment we do.'

'Indigo believed that I was trying to send her away … she left here thinking that I never cared about her. I did care, Pipsqueak!' Hecate's eyes are wide, desperate. She clutches at a pink sleeve. Wills for someone to hear her plea. 'I _do_ care.'

'I know, darling.' Pippa's voice is heavy, choked thick with emotion. She hates that this is even happening. _Hates_ that so much pain is ripping through this woman's existence once more. 'And I'm sure that Indigo knows too, deep down. She just … doesn't know that she knows right now, that's all. I do though, Hiccup. I know how much you wanted this … how much you wish that things had been different. I'm thrilled for Indigo, of course I am, but I'm sad because now it means that you don't get your happy ending, and I know that you're sad too, Hiccup. And I want you to know that that's okay! It's _okay_ to be sad about the things we wanted but didn't get in life. It doesn't make us selfish or bad people … it just means that we're human.'

'I never even said goodbye!''

There had been so much Hecate wanted to say, but it was as if the words had stuck in her throat, and instead all she was able to do was watch. She could hear herself coolly telling Indigo that she did not want her at Cackle's, yet all the while her mind screamed out the real reason why. Hecate had known if Indigo Moon knew the truth, she would have tried to stop her from doing what absolutely needed to be done. And so rather than delay proceedings with an outpouring of emotion, she chose to let Indigo believe she was unwanted, unloved, if only to ensure that nothing could prevent mother and daughter from being reunited.

'I wanted to, but I-' Hecate shrugs, unsure how to continue. 'It felt too real, too ... final.'

'March 9th, 1990.'

Hecate's blood runs cold. _Of course_. Of course Pippa hasn't really forgiven her. It shouldn't come as a big surprise, but somehow it does, and the realisation of what is to come splinters something deep within the pieces of her already broken heart. She thought that they had moved on, gotten past this. But maybe they haven't.

Maybe they can't.

Her hands shake uncontrollably as she sees the past four years of friendship slowly slip from her grasp. Suddenly, and without warning, a familiar hand clasps firmly around her own.

'I didn't mean it like that, Hiccup.' Pippa blinks away her own tears. Focuses on sending calming waves of magic to steady the tremor of the hand that still shakes beneath her own. Finally, she feels it still. 'You never said goodbye though ... I was so hurt, so confused, _so damn angry,_ and then Granny said something that helped get me through all those years we were apart.'

'What did she say?'

'She said that Goodbye usually meant the end of something very special, and that because we never actually said goodbye, it meant that our movie was still playing on in the background — even if we didn't know that the cameras were rolling.' Pippa's hand squeezes tighter as two sets of emotions further unravel. 'I guess what I am trying to say here, darling, is that maybe you not saying goodbye to Indigo _doesn't_ necessarily have to be the end of the story. While it's true that you can never get back those lost years nor have the ones you had hoped for, you still have the chance to make some new memories together. And then _years_ from now, Azura will tell stories about her mum, and her cool Aunt Hecate. Her cool aunt's best friend with a penchant for designer shoes and doughnuts will, of course, have a recurring guest appearance in said tales of such shenanigans.'

Hecate half laughs, and half sobs at the very thought. 'You make it all sound so easy, Pipsqueak.'

'Nonsense. Since when is what is right ever easy?' Pippa winks, and then smiles. After a few moments of uncertainty, Hecate weakly returns the smile. 'And, hey, just know that whatever happens, Hiccup, whatever you decide to do or not do, you've _always_ got me.'

She means it, too. For it doesn't matter how many adventures Pippa has or how many wonders of the world she explores because there is no greater sight than seeing her best friend smile. Or hearing her laugh. _Those_ are the truly precious gems to behold. The times when she feels like she has come home again. Each interaction they have, every mirror call, every message exchange. All of it seems so right, and somehow it jus _t fits._

They fit.

Despite the harrowing circumstances, she can't deny that it is nice to feel _this_ close to Hecate again. To hold her in her arms the way she used to. Back when they were just two young girls without a care to be had and the world at their feet. Or so she believed. As it turned out, Hecate's wings were already clipped and bound, and a fifteen year old blonde girl would shortly spend the next thirty years of her life wondering if she would ever get the opportunity to tell her estranged best friend that she was in love with her.

That, now that they have reconciled their differences, she still is.

'You know that, right, Hiccup?'

'Hiccup?'

Pippa's heart swells as she turns and sees Hecate crashed out cold — a deadly cocktail of emotional turmoil and, perhaps, just _a tad_ too much gin quietly lulling an exhausted woman into a much-needed slumber. In all honesty, thinks Pippa as she gently brushes a loose strand of hair from where it has fallen across Hecate's face, it's probably the best thing for her. Well, second best thing. As though handling the most precious of cargo, she carefully shifts the sleeping beauty into a slightly more comfortable position and tucks the wool blanket around her.

'That's it, darling, you just focus on getting some rest.'

With Hecate attended to, she makes quick work of setting the room back to the way it had been before her rather untimely (or timely, depending on how one looked at it) intrusion. Even though Hecate is, to all intents and purposes, unconscious, Pippa carries on talking as if she isn't. Her bright tones remain perfectly conversational as she busies herself with conjuring a basin and a glass of water.

'Better to be safe than sorry, I think. I'm just going to leave these here for you, okay?'

Although she doesn't answer, Hecate's well-timed nose crinkle serves to tell her best friend _exactly_ what she makes of that particular suggestion.

Pippa laughs, and gently bops at the scrunched up nose in fake chastisement. 'You may well mock now, but I can tell you from past experience that you will be _very_ glad of them in the not-too-distant future. They'll hopefully help tide you over until the morning at any rate, when you can drink this!' From nowhere, Pippa produces a small vial of light pink liquid. ' _Now,_ I know what you're thinking, _but_ it has been well-tested by yours truly — all in the name of research, of course. Anyway, one shot of this stuff, and you'll soon feel right as rain again!' Her brow furrows slightly. 'Well, physically at least. As for the rest, we can work on that together. It will all come right in the end though, Hiccup ... just you wait and see.'

* * *

That night, as Hecate sleeps, she dreams. She dreams of Indigo, of Pippa. Thinks upon first chances, second chances, and finds herself wondering if maybe, _just maybe_ , there might be another chance waiting for her after all.

Someday.


End file.
